Choked by Red Ribbon: The Life of an Angel
by BohemianCane04
Summary: Companion to Even Angels Fall Angel's life from the age of five until his death. Read my other fic first or you will be lost. Chapter Three: Angel gets into theatere and Lily gets a nickname PLEASE R
1. Prolouge

**_A/N: Ok so I've totally violated the "You aren't supposed to bring back original characters" rule. I'm really not sure whether I like this fic, seeing as the pre-rent Angelfic has been done before. There is more but it'll all depend on reviews. This chapter is dedicated to Liz (gamin14) for all her support. _**

**_Disclaimer: _****_Angel, Roger and Collins are property of the immortal Jonathan Larson. All other characters are mine, especially Lily._**

****

**Prologue**

_I slinked up behind Collins_ _silently and gently wrapped my arms around his neck, covering his eyes with my hands._

_"Guess who," I murmured in his ear._

_"Um…give me a hint," he teased._

_I kissed his left ear, then his right._

_"He loves you he loves you he loves you," I told him._

_He shook my hands away and turned to me._

_"You gave it away."_

 _And he gave me a long passionate kiss. We'd promised each other a thousand ones like it, but somehow I didn't think that'd be enough._

_"Dance with me," I said suddenly and he blushed with surprise._

_"You know I can't dance."_

_"Yes you can. Come on, pweeze?" I pouted and he laughed_

_"Ok, ok."_

_"Yay!" I skipped over to our crappy little stereo, the one I'd had since I was sixteen. Selecting a CD, I pushed play and walked over to him._

**_I remember you_**

**_You're the one who made my dreams come true_**

**_A few kisses ago…_**

_He took my hand in his and placed the other on my waist, awkwardly looking at his feet. I chuckled and lifted his face, resting my forehead against his._

_"Don't look down," I whispered._

_"I told you I can't dance."_

_"That's because you're trying. You aren't supposed to dance with your brain."_

_He laughed, full throated and deep like rolling thunder, then leaned in and kissed my lips softly. God, I loved him so much._

**_I remember you_**

**_You're the one who said "I love you too"_**

**_Didn't you know?_**

**_And I remember too_**

**_A distant bell_**

**_And stars that fell_**

**_Like rain out of the blue_**

****

_"My mother used to love this song," I said. _

_He looked at me, more than a little surprised. We never talked about family. For me to mention Mama threw him for quite a loop._

_"Every night when I was a kid she would come in and sing this song to me to help me fall asleep."_

_He smiled, but there was sadness in his eyes. He knew I missed her. He knew it hurt._

_"Ooh! Here comes my favorite part!" I grinned with nostalgia and sang along:_

**_When my life is through_**

**_And the angels ask me_**

**_To recall the thrill of them all_**

**_Then I shall tell them_**

**_I remember you_**

_When I finished the last line I pointed at him and he laughed. He gave me another one of those long incredible kisses._

_"I love you," I said._

_"I'll cover you," he said._

Nine months later, I died. I was 'choked by a red ribbon' as my cousin so colorfully put it. So now I'm sitting in my garden up in Heaven with my new friends Nina and Rachael.

"So, Angel," Nina begins. "Talk about irony."

"Yeah, I guess it is unoriginal now." I try to smile, but it's strained.

"What's wrong?" Rachael asks, laying her hand on my shoulder.

"I miss my family," I sigh. "I have a lover on Earth who needs me."

They both sigh. Nina has turned very serious. Something is up.

"Guys?" I ask nervously. "Something wrong?"

Nina looks at Rachael, then at me.

"Angel, if you really want to see your loved ones, we know of a way you can."

I turn my head and stare like a deer in headlights. Oh my god, they don't know what this means to me! I leap up and hug them both hard.

"Whoa, whoa, Ang, listen!" Rachael begins. But I can't listen. The thought of seeing my beloved Collins clouds my mind and I can't think logically. Hey, this is supposed to be eternal paradise right? Where does logic come in at all?

"How? Oh, guys you have to tell me how! I have to see him!"

So they take my hands and lead me through my gigantic garden. It's what I love most about heaven, my humongous garden that never needs anything. It goes on and on and has all my favorite flowers.

But there was never a lake before.

They've led me to a huge crystal clear lake, like the ones you see in brochures for fishing trips. My jaw drops; I've never seen anything so beautiful. Nina kneels down and motions for me to do the same.

"What is this?" I ask, completely awed.

"This is called a watcher's pool. All the angels who want one get one. At any given time, you can see anyone on Earth."

"But it's clear. I can't see a thing."

Nina looks at me for a long time.

"When the pool is clear, it means something on Earth is wrong and the angel has to intervene."

My hand flies to my mouth. I feel faint.

"_Wrong?_" I gasp. "What…who…how…?"

Rachael sighs and puts comforting hands on my shoulders.

"Angel, this is going to be very hard for you, but you have to see. Watch."

She makes a gentle swirling motion in the water with her hand and a darkened room flickers into focus. The person sleeping in the queen-sized bed moves and orange hair glows from the streetlight outside.

"Lily!" I cry and they nod.

There's a cell phone lying on the bedside table and it rings loudly. She rolls over and grunts. It chimes again and she sits up and grabs it.

"What?" she snaps. My heart sinks. When we were little I loved the sound of her voice when she was sleepy, but now it just sounds sad and bitter. Far older than fifteen. Life has dealt my baby cousin a hard hand.

"Lily…" I hear Roger's gruff voice on the other end, so does she. Her hand flies to her mouth and she moans:

"_Oh, god!_"

"He's dead."

I'm totally shocked hearing this. I round on the girls in confusion.

"They're telling her _now_? How long have I been…?"

I can't bring myself to say the word "gone"

"Several hours," Nina says.

Sickness rises from my stomach to my throat as I watch Lily. The expression on her face is terrible. For a moment she is silent, and then all at once, her body crashes to the floor.

 And then there's the scream.

From deep down in her heart a horrific piercing scream rises out of her mouth. It's so high and filled with anguish that I can feel it in my own heart, and my entire body convulses in pain.

"Please!" I beg, "No more! I can't take it!"

"I know it's difficult, Angel," Rachael whispers sadly. "But you must."

So I watch through streaming eyes as Lily picks herself up halfheartedly off the floor.

"Oh Roger!" she says into the phone. "It can't be. How's Collins?"

"I don't know. He bolted right after they took the body away."

At the mention of my lover I let out a sob. Collins…Tom…Oh god I hope he's all right. I hope he's not alone.

"You can see him later, Angel." Nina reads my thoughts. "Watch."

What Roger says must be unimportant because I can't hear him. Lily only says in reply:

"Roger…I can't…I have to go." She sounds ill. I hear a little beep as she hangs up. She wraps her arms around herself as though she's cold, and stares in the mirror at herself. Her face…oh god her face. She's paler then death. Her eyes are completely devoid of light and rimmed with smudged black makeup. Her face has utterly no expression. She looks as though she has no soul. And all because of me.

She stares and stares at her reflection numbly, until finally she can't take it any longer. She grips the phone tightly in her hand, hurls it at the mirror with all her strength and an enormous crack ripples in the glass. She lets out a cry like a wounded animal and my heart breaks a thousand times over.

_"Angel!!" _she screams. _"Come back, please come back!" _

"I can't!" I sob helplessly. "Lily, please forgive me, baby!"

"She can't hear you," Nina says in an almost cold tone. Her lack of emotion infuriates me! With tears streaming down my face I launch into her.

"_Why are you both putting me through this?_" I yell. "_Why is **she **going through this?_"

"Don't blame us!" she shouts back. "We have no control over people on Earth! This is just reality and the way things work!"

"All right that's enough!" Rachael comes between us. "Nina, try and be a little more understanding. Now Angel, you've got to stay calm. This is really difficult, I know but you need to keep looking."

"It's too much for me!" I protest.

"No it isn't. You still have your duties to those you love."

Her words soothe my anger, but do nothing for my sadness. Miserably I sit back down on the grass and turn my teary eyes to the lake. In the little while I've turned away Lily's run down to her father's study. She unlocks a drawer and removes something that shines metallically. I squint trying to see what it is, but it's too dark. The lake ripples a little and she's back in her room standing at the window. In one graceful fluent movement she removes her shirt and throws it to the floor. The object glints again. I can see clearly what it is now and it makes me struggle for breath. **_It's a gun!_ **She's going to…She's not…

I watch horrified as she puts the revolver underneath her naked breast. She wants the bullet to go straight through to her heart. Tears spill down her cheeks, which look colorless in the moonlight.

"I'm coming, Angel." I hear her agonized murmur. "Wait for me."

"NO!" I scream and desperately turn to Rachael for help. "She'll die! You have to do something!" I plead.

"I can't, Angel. I won't be able to reach her. _You_ are her guardian. Only you can save her."

My eyes widen and my gaze bores into her.

"But how?" I whisper.

She comes behind me and places her hands on my shoulders.

"When she thinks of you, you must make her hold onto that thought. Then you'll break through."

I almost want to run away. I'm so afraid I'll fail, but her grip holds me firmly down.

"Focus," she tells me. "Focus on what you need to do."

I have to save Lily. I can't let my baby die. I shut my eyes and concentrate, my entire mind and body pouring into this.

"Come on, baby girl," I say with my mind. "You're thinking of me. Keep thinking of me. This is Angel. This is Angel. Don't do it…"

At last I hear her voice, afraid and quavering.

"Angel?"

"Yes!" I breathe. "Put the gun down, baby. Don't do it, you can't. Don't give up."

"But I have to," she whimpers.

And for a moment, I want to let her. I think of when I was first diagnosed with AIDS, before Collins. All those times I'd contemplated suicide too. I'd call Paul crying, begging to know what I should do. He'd always give me my answer in one sentence. Four little words would lift me up and give me strength to face another day. Lily needs to hear them too.

"No day but today."

I hear the gun fall with a thud to the ground followed by her sobs. My hold on her loosens and she fades away.

"I love you!" I call, knowing I'll never get the chance to say it again.

And she's gone. My eyes pop open. The pool once again becomes blue and clear. All my energy is gone. I sway on my knees and fall backwards into Rachael's lap. She and Nina both rush to grab me in a hug and I weep into her soft pink dress.

"Lily…she…Oh, God!"

"Angel, it's okay. You did it, you saved her. She's going to be all right. Shh."

"Let's get him to his room," Nina suggests.

I'm so weak I can barely walk with them. When we finally reach my bedroom, they ease me onto the wonderfully soft mattress. Nina leaves and Rachael goes to as well, but I reach out for her arm.

"Stay with me a while, please Rachael," I murmur. "I want to talk."

She smiles sympathetically and pulls a chair up and sits. All the angels here are nice, but I have to say I like her best. She died in a car crash in the sixties. Pity I didn't know her, I'll bet her fashion sense was tops.

"That was so hard!" I sigh, tears welling in my eyes again, and she nods.

"It's terrible you had to break the barrier so soon after coming here. I see how hard it was for you. And I'm sorry about Nina. She was an orphan in life so she doesn't understand."

I shake my head wearily. I'm too sad over Lily to think about Nina.

"It's gonna be awfully lonely up here you know?" I say. "I miss my Collins and all my family."

She sighs knowingly and reaches out to stroke my cheek.

"Tell me about your life, Angel," she tells me. "What's Angel Dumott Schunard's story?"

 I look at her skeptically and prop myself up on my elbow.

"Twenty one years…do you have time?"

As soon as it leaves my mouth I'm aware of how stupid it sounds. We look at each other and both burst out laughing. After the giggles die down she replies:

"I have all eternity. And so do you. Go on, sweetie."

I heave a sigh as I think about Angel Dumott Schunard's story. It was definitely a story full of extremes. Love and hate. Female and male. Laughter and tears. Sickness and health.

Life and death.

"Ok," I say. "Here goes…"

**_Review please! I would prefer flames sent to my email. _******


	2. November 19, 1981

**_Disclaimer: Ok I'm not really sure whether this Angel belongs to me or Jonathan Larson because this is Toddler!Angel, but for the lawyers' sakes we'll say he's Larson  _**

Chapter One: November 19, 1981

"_Oh Jesus Christ_! _Owwww!_" My Aunt Nikki fell against the banister of the stairs and cried out. I jumped back and yelped.

"Tia, what's wrong do you have a tummy ache?"

"Yes, Angel," she gasped. "_Owwww! Go get Mama!_"

I could tell this was serious, so I jumped down the steps and ran into the kitchen where my mother was making tea for my Uncle Sam.

"Mama! Mama! I think Tia Nikki's kidneys are gonna 'splode!" I cried tugging at her skirt. She looked down at me and chuckled.

"Easy, Angel, why do you think that?"

"Because she's got a really bad belly ache and you need to come help her!"

The parents looked at each other and my uncle went green.

"Oh shit!" He leapt out of the chair and they ran to the staircase. I hobbled after them.

"Hey you guys, not so fast! Wait for me!"

By the time we got back to my aunt, she was sitting in a puddle of watery stuff. Being five years old, two thought warred in my little brain.

_Yuck! That's so cool!_    

"Raphael!" My mother was frantically shouting into the phone. "Come back, Nikki's in labor!"

Soon my papa was there too. He came running in and while he and my uncle lifted sobbing Aunt Nikki into the backseat of the car, Mama sat me on her lap in the front seat and buckled us in.

"Don't worry, Nikki," she told her. "Everything's going to be okay."

"What the heck is goin' on?" I asked impatiently. I was getting nervous.

"It's all right, sweetheart," Mama said in that voice that never failed to calm me. "Tia's going to have a baby and when you have a baby it hurts a little that's all."

"**_A little?_**" I heard Nikki shriek, followed by my uncle soothing her.

"Makes you grouchy too," my father informed me.

     When we got to the hospital a team of doctors put Tia on a stretcher and she and Mama went into the delivery room. Tio chose to stay in the waiting room with Papa and me. He shakily sat down and took two cigarettes from my father, lighting them both and smoking one in each hand.

"Sit down, Angel," Papa instructed, so I grabbed a magazine and sat down on the couch. It wasn't comfy. I remember wondering what the point of a couch was if it was uncomfortable. We sat for three hours. My uncle kept getting up and pacing around, only to sit back down. Papa kept rubbing his shoulder and saying, "Easy, Sam, easy." I sighed and began counting the leaves on the big potted plant in the corner. I got to forty nine and lost count.

_Boring!_ I thought. Jeez Louise why did baby-having have to take so long? I was excited about my cousin, had been for nine months, but for Pete's sake I was missing _the Muppet Show_.

Finally a doctor came out. Tio almost knocked over the little coffee table to get to him.

"Well?" he shouted.

The doctor smiled. Years later I would learn that doctors' smiles were fake. They could tell you that you had a child, or they could tell you that you had six months left to live. They'd smile either way.

"It's a baby girl, Mr. Dumott," he said. "And they're both fine."

His eyes rolled up to the ceiling and I heard him sniff back tears.

_Having a baby must be a big deal_, I thought, _if it can make a grownup cry_.

Papa looked at me and smiled.

"Let's go, Angel," he said. So I followed them into the ward.

Mama sat beside Tia who was lying in bed with a pink blanket in her arms. She was crying. I crept over and peered at her cautiously.

"Hola, Tia," I whispered.

"Hello, Angel darling."

Tio started to cry too as she handed him the blanket-thing. When were they going to unwrap it? I wanted to see!

"She has Mom's eyes, Sam," Mama told him. "Green as an alley cat's."

He smiled at whatever was under the blanket.

"Then she should have Mom's name too. Lillian Sophia."

He handed it-her-back to my aunt, who smiled at me.

"Angel would you like to hold the baby?"

I nodded, grinning. Finally!

"Come sit up here with me."

I scrambled up beside her and held out my arms. She handed me the blanket, still keeping her arms close.

"Be very careful," Papa warned.

"I will."

Gently I peeled back a layer of blanket and looked at the face. My friend Geraldo had told me baby people looked like baby chickens and I had seen baby chickens in Miss Wolfe's class, but this was much nicer than a baby chicken. She had a beautiful round little face and bulgy green eyes that stared at me. Brown freckles dotted her nose and cheeks.

"Is she s'posed to be all wrinkly? And polka dotted?" I asked. The adults laughed.

"Lillian," Tia said, "this is your big cousin Angel. You two are going to grow up together."

The tiny creature wrapped one small hand around my finger. She was stronger than I would've expected. Somewhere in that moment I realized that this little thing I held (I was not totally convinced that it would turn into a little girl.) was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. I never wanted her to leave my sight. I wanted to protect her from anything and everything.

"She's really beautiful," I told my aunt. "I want her. Can she live in my house with me instead?"

If I had known how true my words would become as we grew older, I wouldn't have said it.

"No, silly," laughed Mama. "She needs to be with her mommy and daddy."

"But." Tia looked at me. "But, Angel, you are going to have to take special care of her when I or Uncle Sam can't. Since she doesn't have any brothers or sisters, you have to be the big kid. Think you can do that?"

I looked at her wide eyed. This was my mission bestowed upon me by the all powerful adult. I had to accept, so I nodded vigorously.

"I will do my best!" I grinned.

"Thatta boy, Angel." Tio ruffled my hair and I beamed at him, exposing the gap in my teeth from a lost baby tooth.

"Well, I think we should go," Papa said standing up. "You'll probably want to be with her alone. Angel, say goodbye, mi hijo."

"Yes, Papa."

I handed Lillian back to Aunt Nikki, but she started to fuss and reached out for me with flailing arms.

"Oh, she misses you already!" Mama cooed.

I leaned forward and kissed the pudgy cheek.

"Don't worry, I'll see you again soon, promise. Bye Tio, bye Aunt Nikki!"

Papa scooped me up onto his shoulders and Mama kissed my aunt before coming to his side. I waved at my little cousin one more time before we walked away, deciding right then that I wanted children of my own someday, but none of them would be as beautiful as her, my very first love.

**_Ok I only got six reviews last time which was upsetting so REVIEW or I shall put the curse of the Gypsies on you._**


	3. Life is a Drag

_**So this took FOREVER hopefully it was worth the wait. I'd like thank my friends Ben (augur-cursed) who helped me slip into the mind of a six year old, and as always Liz (gamin14) and Michelle (Daydreamer731) This chapter however is dedicated to my newest friend Subia Jasmine, for helping me agonize over every freaking word of this. Angel and April aren't mine. Everything else is**_

Chapter Two: Life is a Drag

Throughout our childhoods Lillian and I were inseparable. She was my pride and joy, as cliché as it sounds. From the time she was small, she was something else! She was talking by nine months old. I was about to leave my aunt's place when she spoke for the first time. She began to cry and, reaching for me, babbled "Byyeee, Ang!" I held her hands as she took her first tottering steps across her family's rug into her father's arms. From the very beginning we had each other's backs. I was her hero, she was my friend, and considering I didn't have many others, I lapped it up.

We lived across the street from one another in an upper class neighborhood in Westport. It was the stereotyped town where rich folk lived. Everyone had three cars, you were considered poor if your maid was not a live in, and under no circumstances raised your own children. Prejudice was a way of life. When my father Raphael Schunard came here at twenty two, a half German half Cuban immigrant from Havana, he'd moved into a regular W.A.S.P colony. He became known as "That colored boy who delivers the flowers." That was how he met my mother, Marie Dumott, the only other Latina in the neighborhood, adopted by a French-American lawyer. She would come into the shop where he worked and ask for a yellow rose for her desk. After this routine went on for a month, she walked in to find two dozen yellow roses, held by Raphael. This sparked a three year courtship between the two. To everyone else, my father had taken advantage of impressionable young Marie and married her for her father's wealth, but to me my father was Superman, like every little boy believes. He was a doctor, an athlete and a damn good mechanic. (We _never_ had to bring our car for detailing.) He protected and provided for us. I inherited my sharp tongue and love of music from him. And that'll be all I ever thank him for if he's lucky.

My mother, on the other hand, was and still is the picture of perfection. Like my father and I, she bore flawless caramel colored skin, black curls and deep brown eyes. She had a giving grounded nature and stood behind her family with a graceful strength that all my days I tried to emulate. I worshiped her, she was perfect.

And so, both my dearest cousin Lillian and I grew up with everything anyone could ever want. But me? I was always, well...different. The first time I ever realized I wasn't ordinary was the same year Lily was born. I was in kindergarten. In our classroom we had what our teacher called 'centers.' There was the house center, where baby girls were subliminally brainwashed into being housewives like their mothers, or the art center where I usually played. Then there was the dress up center, which was always mobbed by girls.

As a little kid my best friend was a plucky gray eyed girl named April. She operated like a hummingbird on a sugar high, always jumping and climbing and swinging. She never backed down from a bully or a dare and talked nonstop. I was shyer and more of a follower. And she possessed a mean streak that I never found in myself. I was sugar she was spice and we rubbed off on each other.

One day during free time April grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the dress up center.

"C'mon, Ang! Let's play!"

"But I've never played dress up before," I protested.

"Ooh it's so fun! I'll teach you."

She knelt down in front of a large pink chest full of costumes. My eyes got huge at the sight of all the color. It did look like a lot of fun.

"Now what do we do?" I asked.

"We put on the costumes and pretend. Like this." She took a lose baseball jersey and slipped it on. It went down past her knees. She did a pantomime of swinging a bat

"Four!" she cried.

"I think you say four in football," I said.

"Whatever. Okay, now you try."

I rummaged around trying to decide what to choose when practically _everything_ called me. The idea of dressing up and being just who I wanted to be thrilled me. It was an itch I'd have to scratch all my life. Finally my eyes happened on something sparkly. Pulling at it I discovered a beautiful white dress covered in sequins.

"Ooh! Try that on!" April urged.

I slid it over my head slowly. I was so tiny the gorgeous thing dragged on the floor.

"How do I look?" I turned to her. She squealed and grinned.

"You look like Cinderella!"

"Really? Awesome! Ten minutes ago I met you..." I broke into a song from the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical Mama loved. April bowed and I curtsied and the two of us danced clumsily together.

"Yanno Angel, one day you and me are gonna be famous singers and be best friends forever."

"Oh yea! We hafta stick together."

"Yep."

"Yep."

Just then a boy came up and stepped between us.

"Hey!" April cried. "We're dancin' here!"

He pointed at me and sneered:

"You're wearin' a dress!"

I stuck my hands on my hips.

"So what?"

"Boys don't wear dresses, stupid!" he mocked me. I was cut to the quick by his words and April rushed to defend me.

"You can't talk to him like that! And why cant boys wear dresses? Girls can wear pants. It should be the same."

"Well it ain't! Only boys that wear dresses are fags."

There was a pause. April and I looked at each other curiously.

"What's fags?" she asked.

"Dunno," I replied.

The bully snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Fags go to Hell. They're bad monsters."

My eyes became as large as saucers and my chin quivered. My family was devoutly religious; Hell was a very real threat to me. Probably the only threat at the time.

"I am _not_ bad!" I shouted, stomping my foot. "I am _not_ a monster!"

"Don't listen, Angel." April put her arm around me. "I'll bet he's makin' it all up."

"Nah-uh! My dad said!" he challenged her. "And anyway you stay outta this, September!" The kids were always teasing April about her name.

"April! April! April!" she shrieked. "My name is _April_!"

"That ain't a name. Neither is yours _Angel_." He put a drawling emphasis on it.

"It's a Latin name and lotsa people have it so there!" I stuck my tongue out.

"Yea, lotsa girls! It's a girl name. You really are a fag. I better not talk to you; you might try to make me one too!"

"Am not, am not _AM NOT_!" I burst into tears. April scowled.

"Why I oughta-"

"What is going on over here?" the teacher cried coming over.

"She was gonna hit me!" the boy said pointing at April.

"No I wasn't! Miss Wolfe, he told Angel he was gonna go to Hell because he's wearing a dress!"

The teacher glared sharply and told our attacker to go stand in the corner, and then knelt down and dried my eyes with one of the tissues that she always seemed to have on hand.

"Oh, Angel, it's okay," she cooed.

"Am I really goin' to Hell?" I sniffed.

"No, of course not. Don't cry, sweetheart. But take the dress off please."

"But we aren't done playing Cinderella yet," April protested.

"I think you two had better play another game. Angel, didn't you say you'd teach April to hula hoop?"

"Oh yea!"

"So she'll go get set up over there but I need to talk to you for a minute. Go on, April."

"Okay," she chirped and skipped away. Miss Wolfe led me aside. I looked up at her expectantly.

"Angel, what that boy did hurt you very much didn't it?"

I nodded gravely.

"Yes ma'am."

She nodded too, and sighed.

"Now, dear, that was very wrong of him, even still I don't think you should wear dresses in the classroom anymore."

"But Miss Wolfe, I liked it a real lot."

"I know you did, but boys don't normally wear dresses. The kids wouldn't understand."

"But maybe it's good," I argued. "Aren't you always telling us to try new stuff?"

She smiled.

"You're a very clever kid, you know that?"

I grinned. I loved compliments from adults.

"Mama says I'm old for my age," I said, and she laughed.

"That you are. And it's very good to try new things, but not when it could get you in trouble."

"How could wearing girl clothes get me in trouble?"

"Like I said, the other kids wouldn't know what to make of it. And when people don't understand something they usually get scared of it. I wouldn't want you getting picked on."

I nodded. I didn't want it either.

"Okay, I won't play dress up anymore," I told her.

She lifted my face to her and put her hand on my shoulder.

"Angel, always remember to be you. If you want to express how you feel through using your imagination that is wonderful. I'm only trying to keep you safe."

"I know. Thanks, Miss Wolfe."

"You're welcome," she chuckled. "Now go play. April is waiting."

"'Kay!"

I started to walk away but then a light bulb went off in my head. I turned back to her and asked:

"Ma'am?"

"Yes?"

"What about at home? Could I play dress up at home?"

She gave me another smile.

"What you do at home is no one's business but your own. Ask your mommy and daddy and see what they say."

"'Kay."

As I joined April I saw my teacher write something at her desk and pin it to my coat.

The bright yellow school bus pulled up in front of my house and beeped. My mother was waiting on the front steps in her favorite periwinkle housedress. The sun was making her black hair glow so it looked almost blue. My God she was so beautiful.

"Mama!" I called, hopping down the steps and into her arms. Her hug was warm and strong and smelled like lavender.

"Hi, Mom!"

"Hi, baby. I missed you, how was your day?"

"I taught April to hula hoop. She can do it three times before it falls, I can do six!"

"Really? Well let's go inside and have a snack and you can tell me about it."

I took her hand and followed her into the house, dropping my coat and lunch bag on the living room floor. We went into the kitchen and ate oranges and I chattered happily. After we were through I pushed out my chair.

"I'm going upstairs to play with Katie," I said heading upstairs. And sure enough our old Dalmatian Katie was sprawled on my bed. I whistled and she looked around. Upon seeing me, she leapt off and jumped on me. She always knocked me over; she was so big I could ride her at the time. We played for a long time until I figured maybe it'd be better in the yard. I led her down the stairs but halfway down I heard my parents talking in hushed tones. I hid and watched.

"I can't fucking believe this!" My father paced across the living room. Mama answered him, her voice firm.

"Raphael, what is so wrong with it? It was only one time. Amanda spoke to him about it."

"Yes and she'll speak to others too. How will it look for us when the neighbors find out our son is a fucking _transvestite_?"

He spat out the word with contempt like I'd never heard in him. They were talking about me, but what was a trans...trans-whatever?

"He's not a transvestite!" Mama's voice got louder. "He's _six years old_! He was just exploring! And besides, Amanda Wolfe won't say anything. She doesn't care and neither does anyone else."

I was confused, why was Papa mad at me?

"Mama?" I called softly. She turned.

"Angel, come down please, mi hijo."

I obeyed and came to stand before my father.

"You wore a dress in class today?"

I nodded.

"April and me were playing Cinderella."

He sighed impatiently and threw up his hands in frustration.

"I don't believe this!"

"Raphael!" Mama hissed. He ignored her.

"You can't do things like that!" he yelled and I flinched.

"What? The dress?"

Mama came forward and put her hands on my shoulders.

"Honey what you did today just-"

"Was completely unacceptable! Did anyone see you?"

I looked at the carpet dismally.

"Yea," I muttered. "Some boy made fun of me. He called me a fag."

Mama looked horrified but Papa's face went red.

"Jesus Christ!" he shouted. "I can't believe you did that! What would posses you?"

"I dunno," I squeaked. "It just looked like fun."

He suddenly picked a glass paperweight up off the coffee table and hurled it across the room. I jumped back as it hit the wall. It didn't shatter; rather fell with a very loud bang to the floor. The sound shocked me and I began 2 cry.

"Stop that!" my father ordered. "Look, boys _do not_ wear dresses and no son of mine will be caught dead prancing around like some girl. That boy had every right to say something. You brought it on yourself."

"But why?" I asked. "I wasn't doin' anything to him. He shoulda just minded his own P's and Q's."

"How could you think someone wasn't going to tease you?" he raged on. "It's not natural to see a boy in a dress."

"Why not? Girls wear pants." Normally I didn't like to argue, but I just couldn't understand. Wearing that dress had felt beautiful and good to me. If I couldn't experience that, then I wanted a good straightforward reason why.

"When a man wears a dress it is a sign of disrespect for God," he said.

My first thought in response was whether or not God really cared what I wore. But then I thought of what the kid from school had said. That I would go to Hell. Like all others who disrespected Him. Maybe they were both right. And at the thought of the wrath of the Lord on my head I was subdued. I hung my head and whispered:

"Okay, Papa. I'll never wear girl clothes again. Promise." I crossed myself for added effect and really hoped Jesus saw it. He relaxed a little and sighed.

"Good boy. Now go upstairs and play until dinner."

"Yes, sir," I answered, trudging up the stairs. Once I was out of sight they started talking again.

"I think you were too hard on him, Raph," Mama said. "You scared him half to death. You know how sensitive he is."

"Exactly. He's too sensitive. If he doesn't toughen up he'll always be taken advantage of. He has to learn the ways of the world."

"Go talk to him, play with him. Let him know you aren't angry."

"All right."

I scampered into my room so I wouldn't be caught spying.

"Angel?" he called.

I looked up.

"Yes Papa?"

"Can I come in son?"

"Sure."

He sat next to me on the bed and put his arm around me. I moved into his embrace gratefully.

"I'm sorry," I told him.

"Me too, mi hijo. I didn't mean to be so rough on you. I just worry about you is all."

"I know."

"Good. Because if you were mad at me I wouldn't be able to do my favorite thing."

"What's that?"

"_Play tickle torture_!" he cried and dive bombed me. I screamed and laughed and tried in vain to fight him. But soon he overpowered me.

"I give! I give!"

We lay panting for a moment until he sat up and ruffled my hair.

"Well, I'm going downstairs, kid."

"Okay."

As he left, a strange feeling washed over me. Papa wasn't mad at me anymore and everything was fine, so why was I still sad?

And then I remembered that I could never feel a dress against my body ever again.

And I cried.


	4. Not God

_**A/N: Ok so I'm not dead! I won't bother everybody with excuses as to why I didn't update in like forever, but this is really long so hopefully it's worth the wait. I don't own Angel, he belongs to Jonathan Larson. April I'm not sure about because technically we only get her name in the play. Karen belongs to herself I guess because she's a real person. Everybody else is mine **_

Chapter Three: Not God

After that my childhood was relatively normal, even if my father continuously stopped me from doing certain things. He was just helping me become a man like him, I told myself. Just looking out for me. Some of it hurt, some of it didn't make sense. But he wouldn't do anything that wasn't right for me, right? So I became the model son for him. I focused hard on grades and taking care of Lily. She was with me and my family most of the time. We were never far apart.

In the fall of 1984 we began our first year together at the same school, she in kindergarten and I in sixth grade. I knew my aunt and uncle would be working so I woke up early and cross the street and help her get ready. She was okay about it at first, but as the two of us stepped out of Mama's car and walked up to the doors of Emily Dickenson Elementary her legs began to freeze up. She looked up at me with those huge eyes and hugged her little stuffed animal for dear life.

"Do I hafta go in there, Angel?" she asked. "I don't wanna it looks scary!"

"Aw, Lil." I knelt down so I could be at eye level with her. "There's nothing to worry about I promise."

"Didn't Aunt Marie say you were gonna be here too?"

"Yep, six hours a day five days a week."

"So what if I just went to sixth grade with you and April?"

I laughed. She was so adorable.

"Sorry sweetie, you gotta go through the ranks like I did. Don't worry about a thing. You've got kitty here and I made you a peanut butter and banana sandwich. You're going to make loads of new friends it'll be fun. I'll see you at three o'clock, not a moment after."

"Will Mommy be home today?" she asked hopefully. My face fell.

"I don't think so, baby, I'm sorry, but April and me will. Hey, I have a present for you."

From the pocket of my jeans I pulled out a pair of pink tinted sunglasses.

"When you put these on you'll feel like the bravest girl in the world. They're magic."

"Oooh! Wait a sec…no they ain't!" she giggled.

"Yea-huh," I assured in toddler slang. "Watch, I'll prove it to you."

I placed them on her freckled button nose.

"Now feel the force!" I cried trying to sound as Obi Wan Kenobi as I could. Hard considering I sang in soprano. She scrunched up her face and I thought my heart would burst I loved her so much.

"Ooh! Ooh! Angel, I think I feel it!" She hopped up and down.

"See? Now, my bravest little girl, are you ready?"

"Yep!"

"Okay then! Onward!"

So I got her to the classroom without further difficulty. My old teacher Ms Wolfe was sitting at her desk when I peeked in.

"Hello?" I called and she looked up.

"Angel!" she cried. "What a nice surprise!" She hugged me.

"Aw hi, Ms Wolfe. I brought you a new student."

Lil peeked out from behind my legs.

"Why hello there," the teacher beamed. "Are you the little cousin I've heard so much about?"

She nodded and gave a big smile, her fear evaporating like water. Ms. Wolfe just had that effect on her kids. She loved them no matter who they were.

"Well I'm sure we'll get along just fine," she said warmly.

Satisfied, I got on my knees again and looked at Lillian.

"Listen, baby love, I've got to get going."

"No!" she cried, throwing her arms around my neck. "Please stay!"

I held her close and stroked her auburn hair.

"Hey, hey, hey!" I soothed. "It's going to be okay."

"I want Mommy!" she whispered.

I sighed. She was right; Aunt Nikki should have been there, not me.

"No tears now. I'll see you after school. Hey, I'll even paint your toes."

She perked up.

"Green?" she asked. Lime green was her favorite color. Still is.

"As the Witch of the West. Now _besitos_."

She kissed my cheek and held up her toy.

"Kitty wants kisses too."

I smiled and kissed the stuffed animal before standing up.

"Goodbye, Ms Wolfe. Lil, be good! _Te amo._

As I left the classroom the first bell of the year rang, giving me a lingering headache as always.

_Oh, great,_ I thought. _Now I'm late. Whatever. Lil's more important anyway._

* * *

I got through the first half of the day without too many problems. Too good to last. Someone threw a paper airplane at me in English with a note saying 'Welcome back, girly boy'. Another fun friendship filled year. When lunch time rolled around I was making my way through the mad rush in the cafeteria when somebody elbowed me in the ribs.

"Hey, watch your back!" I called.

"You watch yours, spic."

I looked up and there stood Sid Phillips, all my worst nightmares in a beefy sweaty body. He loomed over me in a black concert t-shirt, sweat rings under his arms. There was a silver ball in his left earlobe and his dark hair had been shaved over the summer. The future leader of the White Supremacy Movement in America. Ever since our run in at the dress up center he had vowed to make my life a living Hell. And did a good job of it too.

"Well, well, well, Angel Schunard," he rolled my name around in his mouth and spat it out. "Havin' a good first day?"

"Leave me alone, Sid," I muttered.

"Awww not in the mood to play today, freak? How come you never wanna have any fun?"

"When I'm around you, 'fun' is having my tongue glued to a table with hot asphalt."

He colored.

"And for that, you and me are gonna go into the boys room and practice snorkeling in the toilets."

"Um no thanks," I replied. "Poor toilet's probably never had anything like your head down it before. It could get sick."

"Oh you're just full of jokes today ain't you, freak? All right then you asked for it."

I shut my eyes as he went to punch me, but before he could a voice called:

"Problem boys?"

There stood April, her gray eyes glinting. It always struck me how tiny she was. She was like a little Chihuahua, small in stature but tough as nails. She came between us, hands on her hips.

"Excuse me but what were you trying to do?" She had to stand tiptoe to look in Sid's blue eyes.

"Aw, jeez, Schunard, when you gonna fight your own effing battles instead of having your midget friend do it for you?"

"He'll fight his own _fucking _battles when we are no longer friends, tough guy. Go stuff your pie hole now or you'll have me to deal with."

"Aw your mama! Girly boy ain't worth my time anyway."

As he lumbered away, April made her body shake flailing her arms

"Earthquake!" she cried and the two of us laughed. She turned to me.

"You okay, honey?"

"Yea, fine," I replied. "You didn't have to do that."

"What you'd rather go home with a black eye? Welcome back to the asylum. Come on let's go sit down."

I followed her to a table and sat across from her.

"So," I said. "Make anyone cry today?"

"No unfortunately, but it's only eleven thirty," she grinned impishly. "How'd Lil do this morning?"

"She was a little teary of course, but okay I guess. She wanted her mom."

"What little kid doesn't want their mom on their first day? Whoops-"

She dropped one of her chicken nuggets on the filthy floor. It bounced.

"Whoa! Gross!" April wrinkled her nose.

"Okay, how do they get those by the FDA?"

"By blackmailing the government officials with their own fake diplomas, so my brother says. So check this out, I picked it up in the lobby.

She handed me a neon yellow flyer and I read it aloud

"Westport Youth Club Talent Show. Singers, dancers, acting or any other unique skill. Kids ages ten to twenty. Tryouts Wednesday at 4:30. Ask for Karen. So?"

"So, I want to try out. And I want you to do it with me. It's about time someone else heard that voice of yours besides me and the ceiling tiles in your bathroom."

I blushed. I loved singing. I had never done it in front of anyone, not even my parents, but I had secret dreams of singing in the choir at our church or even in a band with April. She caught me singing a lullaby to Lillian and was always pestering me to 'come out of the melody closet.'

"I dunno," I mumbled. "I don't have official training like you. I'm not good enough to be onstage."

"Says you! Angel, I know you, you're your own harshest critic. You have an incredible set of pipes. Use 'em!"

"You're going to be the famous half of this duo, remember? I'm the behind the scenes guy."

"No, when we were little _you_ said _we_ were going to be famous _together_. Ang, honey, you've got to take leaps sometimes. You're always trying to stay safe and look at you, you're life's pretty boring." She smiled teasingly. "It's better to regret what ya have done than something ya haven't."

I quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Where in the world do you get this stuff?"

"I'm a worldly woman, babe. Plus, I read my mom's self help magazines."

I shook my head, chuckling. Then I folded the paper and put it in my pocket.

* * *

Wednesday came and went, but I didn't go to the audition. April called me after and screamed that she had made it. Then she screamed that I should've gone. And honestly, I probably should have because the next day I found myself being pulled into the auditorium of the rec. center with a large sign saying TALENT SHOW REHEARSAL TODAY on the door. The two of us stopped in front of Karen, the girl running the deal. Karen was a sophomore in high school and what my father called 'a bad apple' with her fishnet stockings, wild red blond hair and made up eyes. April's adoration was evident as she made her way towards us.

"Hi! I'm Karen! Names please." As she introduced herself she moved her head from side to side and snapped her fingers. When she saw us staring she laughed.

"Sorry, random dance outburst. Okay names?"

"I'm April Jones, but could you put me down as April Storm? That's my stage name. I'll be singing 'Wild Horses'."

"Okay then. April…Storm." She recorded it on her clipboard. "April Showers, April Storm. Coolness. What about you, dude?" She looked at me.

"Who me?" I pointed to myself. "I'm not performing."

"Angel!" April groaned exasperated. "Angel didn't audition, Karen, but he's a killer singer. I know we've got time in the schedule, could you maybe let him show you now and see if he could be in?"

"Hey, sure, why not. I'm up for anything," Karen replied.

"April, no, I told you I didn't want to!" I protested. "There are _high school kids_ here! How can I compete with high school kids?"

"Ang, speaking as the little sister of an eleventh grader they aren't as amazing as you're making them sound. Now just get up there and for God's sake have a little fun."

I rolled my eyes, jumped onto the stage and tapped the mike.

"Test one, two, three," I said softly. Heads turned and the room quieted. My stomach churned as I looked at the faces of all these strangers. What in the world was I doing up here? Then I fingered the golden cross around my neck. Mama had given it to me when I was christened. I imagined her there in her lilac housedress and yellow clogs. I imagined it was just her, no one else. The song in my heart rose through my throat like a seed toward the sun, and bloomed between my lips.

_Saturday night and you're still hangin' around  
Tired of livin' in your one-horse town  
Like to find a little hole in the ground  
For a while _

So you go to the village in your tie-dye jeans  
And you stare at the junkies and the closet queens  
It's just like some pornographic magazine  
And you smile

Captain Jack will get you high tonight  
And take you to your special island  
Captain Jack will get you by tonight  
Just a little push and you'll be smilin'

I went through the whole song seeing Mama in the darkness behind my eyes. When I was finished there was silence for a moment before the most amazing thing my ears had ever heard.

Applause.

Every person in that room was clapping and cheering for me. They loved the sound of my voice.

At that moment a sort of electric shock fried my brain. My nerve endings tingled and my breath was taken away. I was _alive!_ All I wanted was to keep singing and for them to keep clapping. Keep this moment mine. For the rest of my life.

I heard April tell the person next to her, "That's _my_ best friend up there! All right, Ang, you rule!"

I opened my eyes and came back to Earth. Sliding offstage I asked her:

"Was it good?"

"Are you kidding?" she shrieked. "Can't you hear them?!"

"That was so cool, Angel," Karen said. "Congrats, you're in."

And so for the next month we rehearsed after school. Everybody in the cast was close and I made lots of friends. Our town wasn't big on the arts and we were the outcasts, so we formed our own alliances. The high school kids watched out for us young ones and prepared us for the future. Everybody's talent was incredible and the more I watched them the stronger my lust to perform became. They gave me tips in singing, dancing, acting; anything they could teach me. One girl was a poet and her work was so inspiring I started writing my own. It really helped me make things clearer. The mixed feelings toward my dad and the kids at school, my fears; all of it seemed less frightening in ink on a page. April and I started writing songs together, my lyrics her music and started about talking about starting a band. And yet even with all this, I wanted more. I wanted real teachers like the ones she and the other kids had. The stage was like a fire in my heart and I wanted people to show me how to steady it. It was all I ever thought about. When I expressed this to Karen she said:

"They give all sorts of courses here. If you signed up I think it'd be great for you."

I sunk down next to her on the stage.

"My dad wouldn't like it," I told her. "He calls artists lazy dreamers and says they steal government funding."

"Doesn't read the paper much, does he?"

"Just the sports section."

I sighed.

"I need this," I told her. "I've never felt so good before. I've never felt so special, felt like I belonged. Everybody should feel like that, yanno?"

She nodded.

"Hey, give your parents the benefit of the doubt. I'll give you some stuff explaining the classes. Show them, see what goes."

I looked at her.

"Do you think I could do it, Karen? Do you think I've got what it takes?"

"The talent is there," she answered. "But it's raw, you need to work it. I think you could go far."

I nodded slowly and rested my cheek in my hand, digesting what she said.

I kicked a stray Coke can in front of me as April and I walked to my house. I liked the sound it made. The sky was gray and a storm was just beginning over our heads. All of Karen's paperwork was in my backpack but I didn't have the heart to look at it. It was just temptation of what I couldn't have.

"I don't see why you can't just ask him," April told me. I really wished she'd be quiet.

"I don't want to make him angry. You know how he can get."

"Sure," she agreed. "But that's no reason for you to walk on eggshells all the time. You should at least let him know what's going on. When I wanted to play guitar I didn't let up until my mom and dad knew how important it was to me. I'll still be stuck exploding people's eardrums on the clarinet until I'm seventeen but hey, them's the breaks."

She stopped and blew her long hair out of her eyes.

"Will you braid my hair when we get in?" she asked. "It's driving me crazy."

"Hm? Oh, yea sure." I looked at the foggy sky, distracted. "Hey, anything to hide from my dad for a couple hours."

She sighed and stopped walking, forcing me to do the same.

"Listen up, Ang," she said. "Don't be scared of him. I mean come on he's your father and he's tough, but he's not, I dunno, _God_ or something!"

I was more than a little shocked, both by what she'd said and her casual use of the name of the lord. But then, April was always less religious than me.

"Well, duh, April, I know that." I laughed nervously.

My best friend in the world looked at me for a long time, then she shook her head and we didn't talk until we got to my house.

April had become very deep and philosophical all of a sudden. And I didn't like it. Even though in my heart I knew she was right.

* * *

All of a sudden thunder clapped and it started to pour. We shrieked and started to run towards home. We got in and shook off like wet dogs, squealing with the cold.

"Mama, we're home!" I called.

"Oh, sweetheart welcome home! I'm in the kitchen!"

We walked in to find her standing behind the counter. The smell of spices overwhelmed the kitchen and my nose. My mouth watered.

"Oh wow that smells good," April said. "What's cooking, Mrs. Dumott?"

"Huevos rancheros," she replied. "Hope you two are hungry."

"Famished," I said, coming over to hug her. She stroked my dark hair.

"Have a good day, my love?"

"It was…interesting," I mumbled. Then I changed the subject. "I saw Lillian's bag in the hall, she here? I thought Tio was supposed to be home."

Mama sighed.

"Angel, I think you should talk to her. She seemed upset when I picked her up. Her teacher said she got into a fight with another boy."

"Oh no! Where is she?"

"Napping in your room, she won't talk to me."

"Okay. April, I'll be back."

"'Kay."

I went upstairs into the bedroom and found her curled in a ball on my bed sucking her thumb. I approached her silently and placed my hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, baby love, wake up," I whispered.

She rolled over and opened her eyes and sat up.

"Angel," she murmured sleepily. "Hi."

"Hey you. I heard you weren't feeling good, is everything okay?"

She put her thumb back in her mouth, nodding her head yes then shaking it no.

"Well which is it?" I giggled.

She moved into my lap and looked up into my face.

"I got in a fight with Gus today. He was laughin' at my freckers."

"They're called freckles, sweetie. What'd he say to you?"

"That it looks like I had spots of dog poop on my face, and I have red hair because Mommy leaves me outside in the rain and I rust."

"Oh well that was mean of him. So what did you do?"

"I squirted him with my Juicy Juice! …And then I got a time out."

"Uh huh. And you understand why right?"

"Mrs. Wolfe says I need to use my words. But it made me really mad when they said mean things 'bout me!"

"I know, baby, I know. Kids pick on me all the time too and it makes me sad. But never fight with them. You're too smart for that. Don't let anybody make you angry. If you don't get riled up then they won't have fun teasing you and they'll stop."

She nodded and scrubbed tears from her eyes.

"You'll still love me even if I got an ugly face, right Angel?"

"Honey, you don't! Those freckles make you special and beautiful."

She didn't believe me. Then I got an idea. I scooped her up and carried her downstairs."

"Where we goin'?"

"I have something to show you."

We went into the dining room and I sat her down in front of a large bouquet my mother had bought. I pulled out a flower out and showed it to her.

"This is called a tiger lily," I explained. "See? It's orange just like your hair, and it has these little black dots on its petals. What do they look like to you?"

"The flower has freckles!" she laughed. "Just like me!"

"Absolutely. And it's still beautiful, don't you think?"

"Uh huh!"

"And guess what? So are you. You're my baby tiger lily."

I tied the flower in her hair and hugged her close.

"I love you, Angel."

"You too, baby love."

I never called her Lillian again. She was Tiger Lily always.

Later April and I went into our room to do homework and chat. We worked for a few hours before she grabbed her book bag by the window.

"You're dad's home," she said. "If you tell me tomorrow that you didn't ask him I'll be mad at you."

I smiled indulgently.

"Yea, whatever. And if you don't study for that English test I'll be mad at you."

"Ugh, death by grammar!" she moaned. "See ya later."

"Adios, chica."

As she closed the door I thought deeply about the situation in which I found myself. I would ask. I knew I would regret it, but I had to try. The memory of being onstage kept playing over in my mind and I kept trying to wring out the joy I felt to get psyched up.

It wasn't what any father wanted for his son. I knew what Papa wanted of me, athletics, good grades, the church and later a family. I hated sports but I buckled under to please him. I realized now I just couldn't do anymore. Art was what I wanted, what I needed. Papa had always taught me to think for myself and speak my beliefs. And that was just what I would do, come Hell or high water.

So after dinner I went into the living room. Papa was screaming at the football game on TV and Mama was reading _I Know why the Caged Bird Sings_ by Maya Angelou.

"Angel?" She looked up at me and smiled. "Come down for dessert, honey?"

"Maybe later. Um…can I talk to you?"

She put down the book, took the remote and switched off the TV.

"Hey!"

"You can watch the highlights on the news. We're listening, honey."

I took a deep breath.

"Okay, good news first. I auditioned for this talent show at the rec. center. And I made it."

Mama beamed. A slight smile crept to Papa's lips. So far so good.

"That's wonderful, love. I was wondering where you and April had been after school. What are you doing?"

"Singing. Billy Joel."

Her smile grew bigger.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" It took a lot for me not to jump at my father's voice. Why was I acting this way? I had no reason to fear him.

"Um…I dunno." Why hadn't I? Had I been so caught up in the joy of it that I felt I had to keep it my secret? Or had I been afraid?

"I wanted to make sure I really wanted to first," I said. "It was more April's idea than mine. So anyway, yea, I'm in this show. It's loads of fun, but…but it's more than that. I've figured out that I really love the stage, really. And that's what I want to do. Mom, Dad, I've got to sing! I've got to dance! I've got to perform!"

After that it all just spilled out. I stood there with my eyes closed talking a mile a minute.

"I've made all these new friends, more than I've ever had. Lots of them are older than me but that's ok because they're all really nice and, and a whole bunch of them say I have real talent, but I still really wanna take some of the classes there so I can get really good and I have all this stuff here if you want to make sure it's safe."

I handed them the pamphlets. Mama put on her glasses and began to study them, but Papa just looked at me, expressionless. It scared me.

"It will cost something," I said softly. "But I promise I'll work really hard and make it all worth it. Please…" I lowered my eyes. "This is so important to me."

I looked from under my eyelashes at my parents. Mama had this amazing glow in her eyes. Joy. Pride.

"Well _mi hijo_, your father and I will have to discuss it but I think-"

"No, Marie. Angel, I don't think the theater is the right environment for you. Those kids might not be the right crowd."

"I know the age thing. But I know them all really well."

"Not so much the age." He sat up and took my hand in his. "It's just not something I want you involved with. Theater is not for young men in my opinion."

"But there are lots of guys in the show. They're amazing, you should see them."

"I don't care about anyone but you and I do not want you going back there for any reason."

It was a blunt refusal. No apology, no explanation, just "no way." I expected it, but this time I wasn't giving in. I took my hand away and stood up.

"Papa, I really want this! It means the whole world to me!"

"You'll grow out of it, _mi hijo_, I promise. It would be better I think if you were more athletic."

"But I already play baseball and I'm terrible, and the kids hate me. Wouldn't you be happier if I did something I was really good at?"

He took my hand again, but it hurt a little this time.

"With practice you'll get better at sports or I'll find a game better suited for you."

"_This_ is for me!" I hardly ever raised my voice and never to my father, but the anger was boiling inside me, making my chest feel too tight and my head throb. "Why can't you understand?"

"Don't you speak to me that way I am your father! My word is final!"

Even in my anger I jumped back. But then I remembered April's words and screamed them at him.

"I'm sick of you stopping me from doing what I want just because it's not what you did! You can't rule my life! You're not God!"

Before I could take a breath he lunged at me. I cowered into the corner, but was saved by my mother's voice crying:

"Raphael, don't!"

I didn't feel the sting or hear the sound of skin against skin. When I looked up I saw him standing before me like Moses before the Golden Calf. He looked at me red faced and panting.

"Never again," he whispered. "If you are near any of those faggots you will become one of them and by God I'll never let that happen. Do you understand me?"

We stared at each other for a long silent moment, but in all my stormy emotions fear won out. It always did. I turned my dark brown eyes that were just like his away. He took my silence for submission.

He then turned and stormed out, slamming the door. I stared after him, tears welling up from deep within my soul, before getting up and collapsing next to Mama on the couch. I put my aching head in my hands and wept.

"Mama?" I sniffed in the tiniest voice and she took me in her arms. I rested my head against her breast and tried to calm my racing heart by listening to hers.

"He tried to hit me…" I whispered. "I've never seen him like that before."

"Shh," she soothed, rocking me gently. "You know he'd never really hurt you, don't you baby? He just doesn't know his own strength. It's all right now."

"Why'd I even ask? I knew he wouldn't…It was such a stupid idea."

She looked at me sincerely.

"Angel, my love, don't say that. I know what you want. You're creative. You want to be onstage, you want to make art. She cracked a smile. "I know. You're from my side of the family."

I nodded weakly.

"Yea well, dream's over now."

"Oh no it isn't. Angel, despite what you may think your father and don't always agree. Right now I _definitely_ don't. You may not know this, but I was quite the singer myself once."

I smiled up at her. She didn't know I knew, but Mama had spent her whole life grooming herself for stardom. I found an old shoebox in the back of her closet filled with photos résumés and flyers announcing Marie Dumott and her band Puerto Rican Butterfly. I even discovered a demo tape. She gave it up after Papa purposed and now her only audience was me as she sang me to sleep each night. But I often caught her looking through the box or gazing longingly at a Rolling Stone magazine when she thought she was alone.

"I wanted to be famous more than life itself," she sighed wistfully. "There was a drive in me, a fire. No matter what happens to me in this life it will never be truly snuffed out."

I should have known my beautiful mother would understand the rush that was tearing my apart at that moment. She was a mystery to me, she knew it all.

"It's in me too!" I cried, clinging to her.

"Yes," she murmured. "I know it is. That is why I'm going to pay for your classes."

My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"But…but you can't! Papa told me never again!"

"I can do whatever I please. Baby, I want you to be happy, I see every day that you aren't."

"No, I'm fine, really!" I lied. How could she see? How did she know?

"I'm your mother I know everything." She was even a mind reader! "Now, let me see the papers."

I handed them to her and together we set up my ideal arts curriculum. Voice, dance, drama and creative writing. I was so excited, but still very nervous.

"Mama, I don't see how this is going to work. Papa will go ballistic if I disobey him."

"Well he doesn't have to know." She continued reading. "I'll think of something to tell him

I almost fell off the couch.

"You're going to _lie?!_ You're going to go against him and then lie to him?" I looked at her closely, checking for bolts in her neck. "Mama…"

"I know, I know, but sometimes it's okay to lie if it helps someone you care about. Now let's see…Ah, perfect! Look here my love."

The paragraph she was pointing to read: Young Men's Basketball. Weekdays 4:00 to 6:00.

"I'll just tell Papa this is where you'll be. Tomorrow I'll bring you down there and we'll get you signed up."

I couldn't say anything, I couldn't breathe. I threw my arms around her and kissed her.

"I love you so much, Mama. One day I'll be famous and you and I will sing onstage together. I'll make you proud of me, you wait."

"Oh baby I don't have to wait, I'm already the proudest mother in the world."

_**Review and everybody gets life size Mark dolls!**_


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